


Rebel Operatives

by MarkJira



Series: Imperial Defectors Saga [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkJira/pseuds/MarkJira
Summary: Ten days after the events of Imperial Defectors, Jyn Erso remains unconscious. Cassian Andor feels responsible. He refuses to leave Jyn's bedside. A fellow defector arrives with the potential promise to serve the Rebellion, but Cassian finds himself worrying if he even has a place in the Alliance at all, finally realizing what insurmountable odds they face. Especially because the rebels now have an enemy that seems to know their every move: a blue-skinned tactical genius with a penchant for deduction. Thrawn.





	Rebel Operatives

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


TEN DAYS AFTER THE EVENTS OF  _ IMPERIAL DEFECTORS _

  
  
  
  


Cassian Andor hadn’t eaten or slept in seventy-two hours. He hadn’t even stood up in twelve. He simply sat, listening to hospital instrumentation beep endlessly. Having been through years of stormtrooper training, he was used to long periods of malnutrition or sleep deprivation. But this time, Cassian’s lack of self-maintenance was getting to him. His eyes were heavy, and they began to fall. Before he even noticed it, they were shut. He shook his head and snapped out of it. Leaning his head back, he looked to his left. Jyn Erso was laying there, unconscious. She hadn’t woken up in ten days.  She often mumbled in her sleep, and thrashed around quite a lot, stopping when she aggravated an injury. But she wouldn’t wake, And Cassian blamed himself. His eyes flitted back and forth from her motionless figure to the half-dozen screens currently monitoring her condition.

“Recruit?” The voice addressing Cassian came from the doorway. It was deep and authoritative.

_ Military _ , he thought,  _ maybe even former Imperial _ .  _ Like me _ . He turned his head sluggishly to the source of the voice. Standing there was a tall man with a full head of blond hair, and prominent sideburns. Cassian regarded him wordlessly.

“Recruit Andor. I’m Kallus.”

“I’d call that classless introduction callous, yes.”

“My  _ name _ , Recruit. My name is Alexsandr Kallus.”

Cassian felt a small swell of pride at the indignant reaction his wordplay had garnered. “Sorry, sir.”

“Quite alright, Recruit Andor. I’m not here as a representative of the Rebellion, even though they want me to be. I’m here as a friend.”

Cassian wasn’t buying it. “Who’s  _ they _ ?”

“Rebel High Command. More specifically, General Draven. Head of Intelligence?”

Cassian stood up, keeping his eyes on Kallus. “Why is this General Draven so interested in me?”

“Some...” Kallus paused, “Some friends of mine..” another, shorter pause, “they recommended you for Rebel Intelligence--”

“The squad who brought me here,” Cassian cut him off, “Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus. You know them?” 

Kallus barked a laugh. “I’ve known them for years. I owe them my life.”

Cassian nodded grimly. “So do I. But you didn’t come here for small talk, Kallus. What is it you need from me?”

The rebel gestured for Cassian to follow him into the hallway. “Walk with me.”

Cassian obliged. His legs were stiff to the point of being almost unresponsive, and were certainly about to start cramping up, but he wasn’t going to show weakness in front of Kallus. They walked.

“Recruit,” Kallus said, “ there are some within the rebellion, General Draven included, that don’t quite trust you. And to be frank, I can’t quite blame them. After all, you’ve been here for more than a standard week, you’ve done next to nothing, and you’re a recent Imperial defector.”

“I’m well aware. Why do you trust me?”

“Because I was once where you are now. I defected from the Imperial Security Bureau five standard months ago. I suppose it didn’t hurt that I was working as an informant for the Rebellion long before my defection.”

Cassian furrowed his brow, nodding almost imperceptibly. There was something familiar about Kallus. Not the man himself. Cassian was certain he had never seen him before. Regular stormtroopers didn’t interact with agents of the ISB often. But the way he carried himself, the way he talked. He didn’t sound like the other lifelong Imperials he’d known.  _ He sounds almost like me. Someone who never quite belonged in the Empire _ .

It took Cassian a moment to realize that Kallus was waiting for him to reply. “I see. An ISB man.” That was all he could come up with. After a few awkward, silent seconds, he spoke up again. “You think I can be useful. You wouldn’t be letting me stay otherwise. And you wouldn’t be taking care of Jyn, either.”

“As a matter of fact, yes, we do need something from you. I did what I could, but the intel I could provide was limited.”

_ Of course _ , thought Cassian,  _ they want what I know about the Empire _ . He couldn’t help but feel disappointed. But if he was going to help bring down the Empire that tore him away from his home and killed his family, he’d have to get comfortable with the fact that he was going to have to spend the foreseeable future reliving the past he’d hoped to put behind him.

Cassian nodded. “What do you need?”

“Details,” said Kallus, “on stormtrooper training. Where it takes place, what it entails, et cetera. That information was only made available to anyone outside the program on a need-to-know basis, and I guess I never needed to know.”

“I’ll do what I can. Just let me get cleaned up and have something to eat. I don’t think I want my superiors seeing me like this.”

“Take all the time you need.” Kallus tossed Cassian a comlink. “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll put something together.”

It was a few hours before Cassian decided he was ready to face the leader of Alliance Intelligence. He commed Kallus, and within a few minutes, he was headed down to a briefing room. Reaching the door, he took a moment to collect himself and straighten his posture. As he took another step forward, the door slid open. Cassian entered, and found himself faced with men and women of varying rank seated at a long table. He spotted Kallus in the ranks, and was about to say something to him when the man nearest to him stood. The man was fifty-something, with thinning gray-blond hair, creased features, and untrusting eyes.

The man spoke. “Cassian Andor.” His voice was deep and commanding, but with an edge of something Cassian couldn’t quite identify. “I’m General Davits Draven. I understand you’ve been recommended to join Alliance Intelligence.”

Cassian stood straight, looking the general in the eyes, almost scared to move. “Yes, sir.”

“And it was the members of Phoenix Squadron who suggested this?” Even asking a simple, non-incriminating question, he sounded skeptical.

It didn’t help that Cassian wasn’t sure. He looked at Kallus, sitting about halfway down the table, to Cassian’s left. 

After a brief second that felt to Cassian like an eternity, Kallus spoke up. “That’s correct, General.”

Draven turned toward Kallus for a moment, but shifted his attention back to Cassian. He regarded Cassian for several tense seconds. “What do you know of the Rebellion, Recruit Andor?”

Well,” Cassian furrowed his brow, caught off guard by the nature of the question, “I know that there have been rebel cells working independently of one another since the early days of the Empire. But about a year ago, several Imperial senators-- Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, Giddean Danu-- made an official declaration of Rebellion against Palpatine’s rule, uniting dozens of cells under one banner. I assume that’s what this is?” Cassian waved his arm behind him to the door and, by implication, the hallways beyond.

Draven nodded slowly, crossing his arms. “Not bad, recruit.”

“And this  _ Alliance to restore the Republic _ ,” Cassian said, hoping he didn’t sound too sarcastic, “has spent years trying to destabilize the entire Empire.”

“In order to severely impair its ability to make war, so that it may be toppled and democracy restored.”

Cassian didn’t quite buy the general’s selfless charade. “By committing acts of terror.”

“We do what we feel is necessary,” Draven said, coldly and defensively. “To bring about the end of a tyrannical and corrupt regime.”

Cassian knew he’d pushed too far. He fell silent. 

“You have guts, Recruit.” Draven conceded.

No reaction. No reply.

The general knew he’d pushed Cassian, too, but he didn’t care. It was intentional. Now that the Recruit knew to tread lightly around him, Draven could bend him. He nodded to himself, before looking around the room, watching the reactions of his subordinates.

“But guts alone aren’t of use to the Rebellion. We back our words up with our actions,” continued Draven, “and you’ve done nothing yet to demonstrate your usefulness to our cause.”

Cassian nodded solemnly. He suddenly became acutely aware of a twisting sensation in his stomach. It wasn’t the hunger, although, that certainly wasn’t helping the ache in his gut. He was nervous. Cassian Andor, trained killing machine turned rebel agent, was anxious in the face of General Draven.

He also became painfully aware that everyone in the room was waiting for him to reply. Sohe nodded again and tried to make his motives clear. “General, with all due respect, nothing would give me more pleasure than to get out into the field and contribute in your efforts to topple the Empire. But my first responsibility is here. I need to look after Jyn. She’s the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever been allowed to have, and she’s in a coma because of me.”

Draven was utterly unmoved. “Your first responsibility,  _ recruit _ ,” he said, adding a layer of malice to the last word, asserting his superior rank, “is to this Rebellion.”

Cassian wasn’t eager to agree.


End file.
